There are almost 500 squares in Paris — some large, pompous and famous, many small and unnoticed. Each has a personality of its own. Place Maurice Chevalier, in the 20th arrondissement, has its large church, grandly named the Church of Our Lady of the Cross of Ménilmontant; its Wallace water fountain – that iconic Parisian feature; huge historical significance and, of course, its famous name and lots of charm like its famous singer, whose name it carries.
From its lofty perch, 57 steps above the street, the church looks down on the square. Because of its height, it can be seen from afar. Its mixture of Roman and Gothic elements strikes some as daring, others as ostentatious or pretentious. Notable, too, is its early use of metal in construction. Completed in 1870, it is the third-largest church in Paris.
During the short-lived Paris Commune – three months of 1871 , the radical Communards, who controlled this part of the city, used the church as a headquarters and for fiery speeches and political meetings. There, they condemned the archbishop of Paris and many priests — their prisoners — to death and executed them. They were probably the first radical socialist government – they separated church and state, abolished child labour, established workers rights and other changes which ignited far-reaching public debates on many issues.. Many thousand communards were executed when the army took back control. The leaders were shot against a wall shortly afterwards in the nearby cemetery of Père Lachaise. The wall has become a place of pilgrimage for many who revere the communards and treat them as martyres.
At the centre of the square stands a drink-water fountain — one of more than 100 erected after 1870 to alleviate shortages caused by the Prussian bombardment of the water system during the siege. They were paid for by Richard Wallace, a wealthy English Francophile who found it scandalous that wine was cheaper than water in the city. These fountains, with their four metal caryatids representing kindness, simplicity, charity and sobriety – virtues rarely found all together in Parisians – supporting a dome adorned with dolphins, soon became beloved symbols of the city. They originally held metal mugs from which Parisians drank; in summer they still dispense water, even if less used today.
By coincidence, the two most internationally recognisable French entertainers of the 20th century grew up in this neighbourhood, their lives overlapping in time. Maurice Chevalier — singer, actor, and consummate charmer — was born and raised in a small street off the square that now bears his name. Edith Piaf grew up only a short distance away. . Between them they could sing, charm, act, break hearts, and invite controversy. Chevalier was the smiling boulevardier with a voice made of velvet. Piaf, abandoned at birth and found on a local doorstep, was raised in a tough neighbourhood and it made her famous nickname — the sparrow — sound, maybe, a little strange. Apart from their shared fame – they sometimes appeared on stage together – and after the Liberation, they sheltered from a cloud of suspicion for alleged over-friendliness with the German occupiers.
Edith — to whom a funeral mass was refused by the Archbishop of Paris because of her lifestyle — is buried nearby in Père Lachaise cemetery, beside her daughter and only yards from Greek singer-composer (and sometime lover) Georges Moustaki, who wrote several of her most famous songs. Chevalier is buried in the suburbs, possibly humming Thank Heaven for Little Girls, which the 21st century has reinterpreted with less enthusiasm than he ever imagined.
Recently, small vegetable and fruit patches have appeared in many Parisian squares, on streets and avenues wherever space allows. Residents are invited to plant something and watch it grow. Anne Hidalgo, the “cool” Mayor of Paris, strongly ecological in her outlook, has encouraged Parisians to grow vegetables and fruit wherever possible. Municipal workers have dug up concrete and bordered the new patches with simple wooden fences. Parisians can now nod to their daffodils, tomatoes, or potato stalks on the way to work. There are three small patches in the square.
Though the shape of the square hasn’t changed much since the Communards looked down on it 150 years ago, the view has. On one corner stands a typical Parisian bakery and facing each other across the square are two contrasting cafés with outdoor tables. At the smaller, clients are drinking pungent black coffee from tiny cups; at the larger, the customers — all men — sip mint tea and smoke hookahs while solving the world’s problems. This is a multicultural neighbourhood, buzzing with North African businesses, music from different continents, and conversations that weave together: French, Arabic, Berber, African and South American dialects and the universal language of “Have you heard the latest?”
To visit Place Maurice Chevalier, take Line 2 of the metro to Ménilmontant; on exiting, look to your right and you will see the church spire. But pause first for a coffee at Café Ménilmontant on your left. Dating from the late 19th century, it is an attractive art deco bistro with staff traditionally white-apronned. Edith Piaf — the sparrow — often drank her coffee there, she lived nearby in a tiny apartment before becoming famous. The room she once lived in, just off the square, is kept as a small memorial containing photos, letters and a pair of boxing gloves belonging to Marcel Cerdan, her champion boxer lover. The museum is in a private home, but visits are possible by telephoning for an appointment.
Do take a moment to appreciate the unusual semi-circular shape of Place (Square) Ménilmontant — because Paris sees no reason why squares should be square. To finish, wander over, only a ten minute walk, to the cemetery of Père Lachaise, where Edith rests and people come to serenade her with her own songs . You can pay homage also to a plethora of famous musical names like Chopin and Jim Morrison and literary figures such as Oscar Wilde and Marcel Proust.